Sunday, 10 February 2013

I think I must be a little sensitive today but I can’t pretend I’m not hurt. Do you remember when we first met? It was a long time ago, I remember it was a Sunday and I didn’t want to go out, I didn’t want to appear needy either but my other efforts hadn’t worked so I gave you a call. The lady who answered was lovely and though she couldn’t help me with my needs she had a friend who could; he was lovely too; so patient and understanding he must have spent an age ensuring satisfaction and believe me, I was. Do you remember this was back in the days before the internet, well, before broadband anyway; back then we had to wire things up to make a connection and it didn’t always work. Online shopping was for dreamers such as you and me, but we didn’t let that stop us. Later that day I put in my first order.

The years passed, I moved house and though we kept in touch somehow we’d lost the magic of those early days. As fate would have it the local supermarket was one of yours; now we could have more than just an online relationship. I walk there several times a week to see your stripes of red and blue, though I must confess I haven’t always been true; this won’t be easy to read but you deserve the truth; there have been times I’ve used Aldi. They’re a little closer, a little easier on the pocket but that’s no excuse, and I’m sorry; I hope one day you’ll have it in your heart to forgive me. I suppose I ought to apologise to Aldi too - or it might be Lidl, I never could tell those two apart.

Was this the reason, I wondered today, or am I conceited to think it’s all about me? You see recently you’ve felt a little distant. I know I’m getting older, my hair is greyer and the walk does feel longer and no doubt you’ll tell me it’s my imagination, but I’m beginning to think you don’t care. Those yellow price labels you used to reserve for special occasions, now I see them everywhere; and you’re not always using them to denote something worthwhile, those price reductions you made available to all but were really intended for me (I know this; you don’t have to say anything, on that matter at least). Recently it’s become random, yellow and white plastered with abandon and then today what felt like a deliberate insult: “Cadburys Chocolate Mini-Rolls 6pk - £1.40… Special Purchase”

Special Purchase? What’s so special about that, I’ve never seen them more expensive - and you of all people know how I like a chocolate roll. Is there something wrong? Have I done something wrong? Do you not want me anymore? Have Asda been mean, are they telling fibs? It’s all lies. Well… I suppose there was that one time but please believe me, it meant nothing. No doubt you’re beginning to think I’m a bit of a tart, maybe that’s why you fling such yellow label provocation in my face. Have you really had enough? Should I turn around and go? Please tell me, am I not welcome anymore? You needn’t worry about me; somehow, I don't know how, but somehow I will survive.

Sunday, 3 February 2013

This Tuesday the House of Commons will be voting for the past or the future, and whilst I hope for the latter I wondered on the possibilities with our current imperfect arrangements. I confess to some trouble in deciding which derived from the other, in a software rather than historical sense. All this argument over labels drives one to distraction; an object is defined by its attributes, not by a name; and therein lay one possible solution.

Saturday, 2 February 2013

In an act of supreme (really?) irony, though I’m never sure what that is nowadays and after all my complaining - which I so enjoyed - at Apple’s culpability in something or other, I received an iPod Touch for Christmas. It’s not quite the latest model so I estimate three years from now I’ll find I’m repeating myself; as Apple themselves might say, three years seems like an awfully long time....

I have been busy in general but particularly this week. My now ex-development partner left for pastures new, which in addition to being a surprise was a real shame since he was great to work with. The job itself continues to inspire, overload and a whole set of other adjectives that add up to scary fun. I am at that place where several things have begun to properly click, yet in addition to ‘getting it’ I’m aware of just how much there is still to get; I like the challenge. So with unexpected news I found myself staying overnight at the north-end of the country, running through a few of those things I still didn’t get, fitting in a meeting or two before travelling home and having to stop - for I was knackered - on both the M6 and M5 for extra-shot coffee.